The Nightmare Man
by Tiro
Summary: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out. Read warnings. No slash.
1. Prologue

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

**Prologue**

The British Ministry of Magic lay quiet in the dead of night, only a few working throughout the long hours when others were safely asleep in their homes. In the halls of the Ministry dim lights glowed, showing the way to the people who wandered around with books or parchments in their arms.

Most people who worked there had no idea what they had under their feet. Hell, most people over the world had no idea what was under this particular Ministry. But if one were to take a look…

The regular elevators would never reach the deepest levels. Most people had no idea there were deeper levels than those they themselves could reach. To get down to the very bottom you had to take a special one that required magical signatures. Those who had access were forbidden to breathe a word of what was down there. All except for one; the Minister of Magic himself. So far there had been no need for any minister to speak of the deepest part of the Ministry.

Deep below laid several rooms in a great hall carved out of stone. Most of the rooms were empty but bore reminders of long gone prisoners; claw marks on the doors and walls or worse, dried blood now flaked and brown. Of all these rooms, only one was sealed shut.

Those on guard-duty had a table for themselves, not too far from the room they were supposed to watch and the two who now sat at the table barely glanced over. They had never been inside. Few had ever entered that room. They didn't even know what was inside, only that it was alive and very dangerous. Their focus was at this moment more on their game of chess.

Beyond the door, which was made of steel several inches thick, was absolute darkness and silence. But if one listened very closely, there was the faint whisper of someone breathing. No movements, no others sound to indicate there was a living being in there. Just breathing. In and out, controlled and calm.

There was not much to see in this darkness, but if the door was opened you could at least see a little bit. There would be stone floor, cold and hard, and stone walls. No light sources, so there was nothing that could ease up the dark. Except for one chair, made of stony material, planted in the middle of the room there were no other pieces of furniture whatsoever.

Suddenly there came a different sound. A faint laughter and then something moved. There was a gentle thump against a hard surface. The living being inside this room did not move very often, but the laughter slipped out every now and then.

"Is it morning? Or night?"

The voice belonged to a man and was deep and raspy. Those who had heard it knew its effects. It made their skin crawl.

"Is my children well? Do they weep for me…?"

The voice faded out. The room wasn't large enough to make it echo. Silence spread, not even the sound of breathing could be heard. Then it was broken by loud laughter, bouncing around in the dark encased room. It was not a gentle sound. It was the sound of a madman.

It never escaped out to the guards on duty. Sounds from the cells never did. The walls and doors were too thick, a perfect prison of isolation. But perhaps it was for the best that the guards had no idea what sounds were made in that sole prison cell they guarded.

Because that meant they had no idea what monster that existed just metres away from them.

Tbc…

* * *

I wrote the beginning of the plot down months ago, and rediscovered it yesterday. I liked the idea very much, so I hope you do too!

Chapter one: Armies of Inferi infest England, and to the shock of both Dumbledore's Order and Aurors of the Ministry, the Inferi are the ones from the open war several years ago. What caused them to move once more? A calling perhaps.

The only one able to give them an answer is locked down deep below…

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	2. Chapter 1

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

**Chapter One**

The weather was calm and sunny. People milling around along the beach enjoyed this pleasant day. They weren't wizards and witches, merely Muggles who took a day to enjoy the nice summer.

People liked to think they would get some sort of warning before danger came. Either they would get it days beforehand, perhaps even weeks or months. It was fine with a few minutes. Just as long as there was some sort of sign that said: _Please, do run because things are going to get fucked in just a little while. _

But nothing came. One moment everything was just perfect, and in the next things went very wrong. The sun disappeared behind sudden clouds and a strong, cold wind swept past them all. Summer turned to near winter in an instant, and then creatures rose from the sea.

People screamed. The creatures were clearly humanoid; they walked upright, had clearly a head, torso and arms and legs. They moved with determination but seemed to have no troubles with the water. They shied away from the light though, and lifted stick-thin arms to protect their misty eyes.

They were Inferi, and they moved with a frightening speed towards the screaming Muggles.

-o-

Albus hadn't seen Inferi this ferocious since the open war. Everyone in the Wizarding World knew the war wasn't over, the war with the Dark Lord Voldemort but it hadn't been an open war for several years.

Yet here they were, an army of Inferi moving like in the old days. Barely held back by fire spells, they advanced further into the country. The Aurors and Albus' Order tried to hoard them in and seal them away but it wasn't an easy task.

In fact, why had they begun to move once more? Voldemort had withdrawn them some twenty years ago and Albus thought those hellish days were over.

But that had just been proved wrong, and so they met in the Minister's office to try work up some sort of plan. With him was some of his Order, including Mad-Eye Moody, Minerva McGonagall, James Potter along with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

James, Sirius and Remus had only been children last time they even heard of Inferi but Albus trusted their powers. They were strong and all three were Aurors as well as members of the Order.

Fudge seemed preoccupied though, twirling first his quill and then putting it down.

"Inferi," he muttered. "Animated corpses."

"Yes," Albus said. "It's a large army that came out of the sea."

"Why have they moved now?" Remus asked. "Is Voldemort preparing an attack?"

They saw James clench his jaws. His worry was shared by everyone, but they knew no one would be as worried as him about that prospect. Well, him and Lily, his wife.

Sixteen years earlier the war had been more open when a prophecy surfaced, stating the Dark Lord's doom at the hands of a child whose parents had trice defied him. It was revealed the child was none other than the one resting in Lily's womb.

The boy had been born. They named him Harry James Potter, and Voldemort sought to destroy him. An attack when Harry was barely over a year old had more or less destroyed their home, and caused Voldemort to withdraw. The years that followed were near peaceful.

But now it was heating up again. Albus tapped the desk to get Fudge's attention.

"Cornelius, we must seek a solution. What worries you so?"

"No, it's just… Inferi…"

For a moment he looked lost, but then it changed. They all saw it, the horrified expression that crossed his face. Then it disappeared but Albus was already on his feet.

"What is it, Cornelius?"

"Please, minister," James continued. "If you know anything at all about the Inferi that can help us… please, we already know too little about them…"

"I don't have the knowledge myself," Fudge began, "but there is someone who might. No, there's someone who can definitely tell us."

He looked over at them all.

"This information… I came to this information when I first took office. I never knew about it before I became a Minister. This is the first time I will ever tell anyone about it."

"What is it?" Albus asked.

The Order members glanced at each other, feeling uneasy. Fudge had not always been reliable, and now he had some sort of secret not even their own leader knew?

"This way."

Instead of just telling them what he knew Fudge led the way to the elevators outside his office, and they all stepped inside. He brought it down to the lowest level and walked down the corridor.

"I've barely been down here," James said, "but…"

"There's nothing here for us but an elevator taking us further down," Fudge said.

"What? This is the lowest level!"

Fudge took out his wand and glanced over at them.

"To the rest of the Ministry, this is the lowest level. To me, it's not."

He tapped the wall, and it rippled. A set of black elevator doors was revealed, and then they opened. He stepped inside first and motioned them inside. The elevator was a bit small but with an adjustment spell they could all fit comfortably.

Fudge pressed the tip of the wand to the panel next to the doors.

"The pit, if you please."

The doors closed, and the elevator dropped. It wasn't a gentle descent. They could all feel how the elevator fell through the ground, deeper and deeper. Fudge was sweating a bit.

"What's wrong?" Dumbledore asked, holding onto the wall of the elevator.

"It's been a while since I last was down here," Fudge said. "It's not… the most welcoming place."

They reached the end and the doors opened. A black-cloaked man awaited them.

"An Unspeakable?" James asked.

"Of sorts," Fudge replied and then turned to the man. "We're here to see… _him_."

"Of course."

The man led the way and the Order members glanced around. It was a bleak, miserable place with nothing but small, glowing lights to guide the way.

Then they came to a great corridor with several doors. Most of the doors were open in one way or the other but only one was completely shut. Another black-cloaked man waited there.

"Minister," this one said.

"Gentlemen. Do you remember the rule?"

"Yes," they both chorused. "Do not underestimate the prisoner."

"That's right," Fudge said. "Last time one did was in 1866. She walked too close and got her throat slashed open for the trouble."

The two men looked at each other and nodded, hearing the warning in the words.

"That applies to you as well," Fudge told the Order members. "You will keep the distance. Magic-stealing chains are enough to keep him seated, but the man has had time to come up with other ways of torturing people."

The two men pulled the closed door open slowly, revealing nothing but darkness. They had their wands out and sent in light.

"Cornelius, one question," Albus asked. "Who exactly are we here to see?"

"He has no name," Fudge replied. "In the papers concerning his imprisonment they only called him the 'Nightmare Lord'. It's a fitting title if I'm to be honest."

The lights had yet to show them any depth of the room as they entered, and for a moment there was silence. Then came from the darkness a deep, feral voice:

"I see that the little man has grown some guts. Last time you were here, you shook where you stood, Cornelius. Like a poor, frightened lamb. Have I perhaps… _lost my touch_?"

"I don't fear you the way I used to," Fudge said. "You're but a mere beast wrapped in chains, locked up forever!"

Laughter was his only answer, and light finally flooded the chamber. The Order members gasped. On a throne made of stone sat a man wrapped up in blackened chains. His long, wild hair snaked past his chest, the wide mouth open in a teeth-showing grin, the bright green eyes, the light of Avada Kedavra, were fixed upon them. He was human, yes, but the look in his eyes told them they were gazing upon a predator, and they had just become his prey.

"A beast you say?" the man wondered. "Aah, the notion of humanity. They see a man much greater than them, and call him beast."

He laughed again. It wasn't a pleasant sound, but he seemed happy when they flinched.

"Enough!" Fudge bellowed. "What do you know about the Inferi?"

The man's expression eased down. The grin disappeared, and for a moment they thought he looked afraid.

But it wasn't so. The smile came back, more gentle, and the man said almost dreamily:

"An army of the dead. Animated corpses on a march. What a sight that must be. Of course I know about them. I made it possible to create them. In fact, I was the first one to create an army of them. Little Cornelius, you never wondered _why _in the papers your ancestor Ministers called me the Nightmare Lord? I'll tell you. It's because I _am _the nightmare. I'm the notion itself of nightmares and fear."

"Yet you sit here, chained and pathetic," Sirius mocked him.

The eyes moved to him and the grin faltered.

"I was careless. I am but a man of human flesh and blood. But they couldn't kill me, so they locked me up."

"Why did you create such hideous things as Inferi?" Albus asked.

"Oh, are you perhaps a leader of sorts? You speak like one. It's annoying. Why you ask?" The man grinned. "Because I felt like it. But they were just for fun. The real thing I made is far more powerful."

"Is? Don't you mean was?" James asked.

"Oh no, is," the man said. "After all, you still have Dementors don't you?"

They all flinched, hearing of those horrid creatures.

"Are my darlings doing alright?" the man asked. "Do they brush their teeth before bedtime, Cornelius? Do you read them a bedside-story?"

"What the hell is he talking about?" James demanded to know.

"You are looking at the creator of Dementors," Fudge stated, wiping his sweaty brow. "He made them, and countless other beasts. He made spells and curses no one should know about today. The Unforgivables are nothing in comparison to what he unleashed into the world."

"And yet I'm not famous," the man mourned. "Well, it's wasn't really my aim though. You never answered my question, Cornelius. How are my darlings?"

"They're fine, sucking happiness out of prisoners," Fudge begrudgingly told him. "About the Inferi. How to we defeat them?"

"What do you mean, how? They're already dead. You can't kill a corpse twice, that's just ridiculous," the man scoffed. "That would defeat the whole purpose of having a nearly immortal army, wouldn't it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" James asked.

"Fight fire with fire. The only way to make them stop moving is to burn them to ashes," the man said simply, moving his head. It was probably the only part of his body he could move, with the exception of his toes and fingers. "So load up your fire spells and burn away. Unless you can't handle a bit of icky war, my dears."

He finished with one big grin. Fudge took out his wand and released a spell. Lightening encased the man who screamed. After a few moments it died down and the man wheezed for breath.

"You should keep your mouth in check, beast," Fudge stated. "You're never getting out of here."

"Well, that decides it, doesn't it?" the man panted. "I have to get my fun _somewhere_. Teasing you is the only thing I've got left. Unless you want to _come closer_…"

He bared his teeth.

"I know not to," Fudge said.

"Of course you do. First time you saw me, you must have just read reports of what happened to people who weren't careful. You smelt of _fear_. I love that smell."

"How did an ordinary person turn into a monster like you?" Albus asked sadly.

"Bad upbringing," he replied. "Maybe. Perhaps I was just born evil. A wolf in sheep clothing."

"You were never anything but a wolf," Fudge said.

"You don't know anything about my past."

"I know that you are centuries old, perhaps before even the foundation of Hogwarts," Fudge said. "And you have been nothing but evil."

"Evil begins somewhere," the man said, staring off into the wall. "And now I'm tired, and thirsty, so unless you want to ask me anything else or try to torture me, I would like to be left alone."

"In the oppressing darkness?"

"Unlike you, my dear, I happen to enjoy it."

One of the guards cast a spell that was usually done through a small hole in the door. The man opened his mouth and water came out of the air and into his mouth.

"Aah, just perfect. Thank you. Sure you don't want to feed it to me?"

He snickered to himself, hanging his head. Fudge motioned them outside but then the man raised his head again.

"Cornelius," he sang, "little child. Beware."

"Of what?" the minister snapped.

"Of _me_. You can't keep me locked up forever. And once I'm out, the nightmares will begin anew."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"May I ask one final question?" Albus asked.

"Oh, don't look at me," the man said. "Ask little Cornelius. He's the… _boss_." A cackle followed.

"You may," Fudge said gruffly.

"Do you know of a man named Voldemort, and if you do, how does he know how to create Inferi?"

The man on the throne tilted his head and looked almost normal, eyes fixated upon Albus. They saw his calculating look, and a slow smile spread.

"No," he sang. "Never heard of the fellow. Why should I have? I've been locked up here since the medieval times! I don't even know the year."

"That's enough, answer truthfully!" Cornelius shouted.

"I don't feel like it," the man replied. "Besides, how can I have taught him anything about the Inferi? These chains aren't for show you know; I can't even get up and I've had an itch on my leg for the last _twenty _years…"

"For your lies, don't expect company anytime soon," Fudge warned him.

"Oh. I'm not so sure about that. But until then, bye-bye, little Cornelius."

"Close the damn door already!"

The lights vanished from the room.

"Aw, leaving me in the dark again? What a cruel little _child_ you are, Cornelius. Treating an old man like this."

"Close the door!"

The door was sealed shut again. Fudge was red in his face and wiped his brow again.

"As you saw, he's not very pleasant."

"How come the majority of the Ministry doesn't know he's here?" Albus asked.

"It's the way it's been since he was locked up." They left the cloaked guards behind them and Fudge continued, "The guards don't even know the extent of his crimes. Until today, they had never seen him."

"Never? But the spell for his water…?"

"Could be done in a way without them seeing him," Fudge stated as they stepped into the elevator. "I hope they won't get too nervous continuing working now. I've read of those who quit after seeing him for the first time. He was rather laid-back today. Normally he spews insults… maybe he had a good night's sleep or something."

No one said anything.

-o-

Back in the dark, the man chuckled to himself. Toes tapped the cold floor.

"So James Potter is alive here? Well, that's unusual. Maybe I had a bigger impact than I thought… but why should anything have changed? There was always someone who made my darling children, and figured out to animate corpses… oh, I hate this sort of thinking."

So he fell silent instead and waited for a bit. Waited for what, one might ask. Well, if he was in any position to answer that question, he would say he was waiting for a very specific sound. Hours had passed since they left. He knew that. Maybe Fudge thought he lost time in this darkness, but he never did. He knew how long he had been in here. And so he let a few hours pass before he set his plan in action.

To be honest he seldom had seen the people who watched him over the years. The few times he had their minds were protected, or he had had too much fun tormenting or torturing them to death that he hadn't noticed, or even cared about their minds. But today, the best of all days he decided, one of them hadn't been protecting himself properly. His mind slipped, just for an instant but that was enough and so the Nightmare Lord slipped inside. It wasn't that hard. He had spent so many years prior his capture possessing and controlling dozens of people just for fun.

The door opened and light spilled in. One of the two guards, the one who had greeted Fudge and company earlier, stood in the doorway, his eyes blank. The second guard lay on the ground behind him, blood sprayed on the floor and wall.

"Good," the Nightmare Lord said with delight. "Now… I am ready to get out of these chains."

They were old but the design was simple, and he soon had the guard work away at freeing his body.

"Inferi, moving around… I have heard the name of Voldemort," the man mused, "but never have I taught him anything. Then again… he might have found _my _book. Perhaps I should find this Voldemort and see who he is. Could be fun."

The chains snapped, and he was free.

Tbc…

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Chapter two: The nightmare is coming up to the Ministry… they are not prepared.

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	3. Chapter 2

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

I forgot to say this in the last chapter, but thank you for all the reviews! You seem to like this. Well, so do I so without further ado, here's chapter two!

-o-

**Chapter Two**

It took a minute or two for the man to actually move from the stone chair, and then it was wobbly at best. The arms barely supported him and the legs nearly folded beneath his weight. He hadn't stood for so many years. Joints popped and burned as he began to move around. Numbness took over, pins and needles assaulting his fingers and legs. He shook and stretched the fingers and wriggled the toes.

Finally he stretched the whole body. It shuddered with cracks of unused bones and joints. Long forgotten muscles pulled and hurt in a good way and finally he stood still, upright. One last crack of his neck and then he said:

"That felt good."

Then he bent to scratch at his leg with a look of bliss overtaking his face.

"Oh, that's even _better_…"

The man flexed his fingers, caressed his face and chest, and frowned upon feeling the threadbare robe. He didn't have a mirror to inspect his image, but he pulled at the robe and swished it around so see as much of it as possible. He was not happy.

"I do not like these clothes," he informed the possessed guard. "Well, no matter. I'll just go home and change later. Now, let me have a look at you?"

"Who… what… are you?"

"Oh my. You can actually speak while I still possess you? Impressive. I'm the Nightmare Lord. A rather silly title, but I've gotten attached to it over the years."

"Your… name…" Blood began to drip from the guard's mouth.

"Oh, no, don't fight my control _that _hard, my dear. I can't have you dying on me right now." He tightened the control and stopped the bleeding the guard had caused for fighting the possession. "But I will answer you. I have no _real _name, not anymore. But I can't be called Nightmare Lord all the time. My name when it mattered… no, I can't use that. So how about… yes, I'm Harrison!"

That would be good enough. Harrison grinned. He liked to smile. Most people became terrified when he smiled, and that just made him smile even wider.

"Up we go," he said happily. "Take me to the Ministry, dear. From all that I've heard over the years it must be directly above us."

The guard wordlessly led the way to the elevator and stepped inside. Harrison followed and hummed as the elevator began to move upwards. It had been so long he had seen anything but the dark and the room, his prison for the last few centuries.

He was ready to let the world know who he was, and why people once had feared him.

"Get ready for a show," he whispered, "because ready or not, here I come."

-o-

It was late afternoon but a fair number of witches and wizards roamed the halls and corridors of the Ministry. They were finishing up for the day, some looking forward to go home and see their families. Others discussed having a drink with friends, and a few hurried as they were already late for meetings that had nothing to do with work. All their priorities changed though when an explosion wracked the whole place.

People fell to the floor or crashed into walls. Aurors had their wands out and others ran for the exits wherever they could find them. Many made their way to the atrium where they took the Floo out of there.

It all ended however when they heard a roar of fire. A sick-looking, green fire came into the atrium and swallowed several people. Screams began to rise within the fire and burning people ran out, towards those who stood still in terror. When the fire turned to them they began to move, running for their lives.

Out of the fire came Harrison at last. He was smiling at the sounds of people screaming, and when he inhaled he smelt burning flesh. The guard from before followed him listlessly, blood dripping from his lips and nose. He was ashen grey in the face and looked clammy.

"Do you hear that?" Harrison asked the guard. "The screams? Ah, such music to my ears! No wonder I almost went crazy in that room; no sounds like this. There was nothing to do, no one to maim and kill. I missed this."

Then he laughed.

"Oh, what am I saying? Maiming? That gets boring, _fast. _Now, my dear guard, whatever shall I do with you?"

He beckoned the guard over and took a good look at the man's blank face.

"Well, I do have to say, you look pretty. I like to look at pretty things. That's it, I'll keep you."

Harrison glanced over at him once more.

"At least your body. I'm afraid I've fried your mind a wee bit. No matter, I can get creative. I haven't been allowed to be creative in such a long time. I'm sure I can make something out of you in the end."

He whirled around. The fire was eating away at people's writhing bodies and had now spread to the walls and the tapestries hanging there.

"This however, is not quite creative. Rather it's just… chaos. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy chaos. Just listen to that screaming, marvellous. But creative? Not really. I'm sure I can find one though to be creative with. Ah, I know just the one!"

Harrison turned back to the guard.

"Still alive in there?" he asked. "Yes, I see it, that spark right there in your eyes. Deep inside, but still, it's there. Remarkable strength you have there. Tell me dear, where is Cornelius' office? He does have an office doesn't he? Yes, he does. Show me the way, child. That's it, go on. Show me."

The guard's body staggered forward and then began to lead the way. Harrison followed, and there was a definitive skip in his steps and if he accidently trampled on someone's body… well, that's to be expected of him. Honestly. He wasn't a very good person.

-o-

Cornelius Fudge had been in his office when he felt the first rumbling explosion run through the Ministry. Worry flared in his chest immediately even as he moved to the door and out in the hall, wand out. Was it an attack? Was it Merlin forbid, Voldemort himself? The Dark Lord had never foolishly invaded the Ministry before. He was a madman, that's for sure, but surely even he couldn't be as mad to attack a place with so many Aurors in one place?

Several of these Aurors came to him. His Floo had been naturally disconnected earlier that day when he met with the Order, so now they ushered him to another safe Floo so he could escape.

"What about the rest?" he asked. "Have there been any deaths?"

"Some, in the atrium," one Auror replied. "We're trying to get as many as possible out of the Ministry. The Floo in the atrium can't be accessed right now."

"Any signs of the attacker?"

A single man stepped around the corner and into the hall they had been hurrying down. He stopped, as did the Aurors and Fudge, who recognized the man's clothing. It was one of the guards from the pit. Had it been felt even from down there? Had he been coming with news?

"You!" Fudge called out. His priority was to get everyone out, even this man. "Get out of here now, for Merlin's sake!"

The man looked up. The Aurors drew their wands and trained them on the man.

Blood was running down the man's mouth, nose and eyes. The irises of the eyes were gone, leaving a milky white behind. He didn't look alive. When he started to walk towards them, Fudge knew it he wasn't alive anymore. The feet dragged behind him for every step and he was more stumbling than actually walking.

A second man rounded the corner and walked towards them. Fudge's blood froze in his veins and it almost felt as if his heart stopped. A wide tooth-showing grin was the greeting from the man along with comment:

"Aha, you found Cornelius! Good dog."

He petted the guard's hair, as if he really was a dog. The guard's body shuddered as the eyes strayed up at the ceiling and stayed there. A gentle push made the guard move to the wall.

"Hello, Cornelius," the man said, still smiling.

"Minister, this way!"

Half of the Aurors dragged Fudge with them while the rest rushed to fight the man. Fudge tried to shout, wanting to warn them that this man, the Nightmare Lord was no man they could ever dream of defeating. But not a sound passed his dry lips, and cold sweat now covered his body.

He was afraid. Of course he was. He had never faced Voldemort, but knew of his crimes and he was nothing compared to this _thing_. Fudge had only ever read horror stories from long time ago of what this man had done, and now he was _free _to show it. Why he was feared, how he had obtained that fear from people. If all the stories were true, this man was a true nightmare.

They hadn't even made it to the end of the corridor when the Aurors that stayed behind were killed. All of them, in a single swipe. There wasn't even a sign of how it had been done, but in a matter of moment bodies lay strewn around, blood covering the floor. What else did Fudge expect? He had read of the spells the Nightmare Lord had been accused of creating. He hadn't been lying when he said the Unforgivables were nothing in comparison.

The Nightmare Lord began to walk towards them, stepping between the body parts and right into the blood that was seeping out of the dead men and women. The guard stumbled on behind him. Fudge thought he was no better than an Inferius now. When had he been killed? How?

The Aurors were cut down one by one even as they shot spells at him, trying to get the minister to safety. They ran down several halls before the last Auror fell. Fudge turned around at last, wand held tightly in one hand. He was still far away from any safe place, or even a Floo to get away with and his blood turned cold.

Naked feet against the cold floor made almost no sound and the Nightmare Lord walked up to him. Fudge couldn't even move, much less point the wand at him. He felt as if he stood up against a hurricane. He was utterly powerless.

"Why?" he managed to stammer out at last. "Why are you doing this?"

"You mean killing those people of yours just now, or about to kill you, or just the chaos in general?"

"All… above?"

"Oh, alright. I can do that. It's really easy to answer it all, Cornelius. I was captured and held prisoner for god knows how many years. You don't think I'd get my revenge one day? I told you to beware of me. I guess I should have told you to be ready too, and be ready really fast."

"When did you do that… to the guard?"

Said guard was coming up behind him, blood finally slowing down and the eyes vacantly staring down at the ground.

"Oh, him? While I was having a chat with you a few hours ago I just happened to notice that he didn't have his mind shields in place. They faltered, for just a moment but enough for me to slip inside. It's rather easy you know."

"Why him? There were others… stronger…"

"Yes, well, there was and their minds weren't much protected either but they were of no use to me. They couldn't get me out of there. This guard could. He could take me up here, and beyond, all the way to my beloved freedom."

"How long have you been planning on escaping?" Fudge managed.

"Since I was captured, of course. Silly boy." The lord came even closer. "Now, I know you've read up on me… what I've done to people… and to their homes and so forth, but… how about a first-hand demonstration? It would be rude not to, really."

"You're not… a wand…?"

"I haven't used a wand in a really long time, even before you lot captured me. I find it really restricting."

He raised a single finger. Magic tore through the air and hit Fudge. His scream echoed around the corridor but in the end it drowned out with the others coursing throughout the Ministry.

-o-

Some time later Harrison rose up.

"Hey, grab him," he told the lifeless guard.

Vacant eyes snapped up to him and revealed a slight life in them. Harrison smiled. The guard was not an Inferius, nor would he become one either. Earlier he had let a small amount of magic flow into the guard's body, not giving him life back but enough to let him have his own mind. It was crude work but Harrison would have time to brush up on it later.

The guard followed his orders but hesitated a bit before Cornelius Fudge's body.

"Just grab the legs and drag him, it's not that important."

Harrison started down the corridor and the guard followed whilst doing as he was told. The screams had quieted down over time, and now as they moved barely a sound came forth. Perhaps most had managed to flee by now. Harrison wasn't sure how long it would take for reinforcements to arrive because he was sure there would be reinforcements. He wasn't planning on staying for much longer.

All he wanted to do was to leave them a parting gift before he himself left this place.

"By the way," he said and looked at the guard. "How does one get out of here? I can't help but notice that there are no windows here."

"Underground…"

"Oh, we are? Well, where do we get out? No fires please, just out on a street or something would be nice."

"I'll show… you…"

"Good, but not until we're finished with him."

The man in question, Cornelius, didn't move. Harrison didn't expect him to. He wasn't dead yet, that wouldn't be any fun. Harrison never did like just killing, he had done his fair share of that over the years preceding his imprisonment and found it rather dull most of the time. Efficient yes, but never much fun. There was only so much enjoyment one could get out of straight-up killing people and for example, make an Inferi army out of them.

Harrison had to admit it worked a bit better when people got to see their loved ones turning into animated corpses. Yes, he might have killed them without doing anything else, but it was entertainment to see them start walking again and watch the reactions people around them have.

As he came back to the atrium he stopped and had a look around. He wanted to have fun, he had been bored for so many years but fun had to wait just a bit. Now it was time for business and then he would go home for a shower and new bloody clothes. Just experience some familiarity before he hunted down this Voldemort Fudge had mentioned and made himself known to the man.

"You can put him down now," Harrison told the guard. "I better hurry up too if I want to salvage anything out of you. Can't afford to dally much longer, you're looking a bit… not good right now."

Harrison levitated Fudge up in the air with wandless magic. It was true what he had told Cornelius earlier, that he hadn't used a wand for a very long time. Certainly not his own. He didn't even like that wand particularly much. His magic thrived now with no restrictions, whether it be wand or those chains, and his whole body was happy just moving around and simply being free.

The fires were drained by Harrison in the end and he looked around. The walls were marked and blackened, the floor had cracked due to the heat, and the air had the sharp smell of death and burnt flesh. He motioned for the guard to come closer, and ran a finger down the man's pale cheek. He followed a trail of half-dried blood.

"Well, I'm done now. For the moment anyway. So get me out of here, please."

He wouldn't have minded seeing people react to what he had done to this place, with the charred remains of humans on the ground and Fudge's body… but he had no intention of being captured again. So instead Harrison followed the stumbling guard out to his freedom.

Tbc…

* * *

Not very long chapters but they come out much faster! And I always like quality over quantity, although a long chapter is always nice.

Anyway, chapter three: Harrison finds himself in a bustling city he shouldn't know… but he does. Just who is he? Also, Albus and his Order come to the Ministry to see the aftermath of Harrison's visit.

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	4. Chapter 3

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Thank you for all the reviews! I'm glad you like this plot. The Nightmare Lord's name he took kind of revealed who he used to be, but just wait until the next chapter for more information about him.

Now, let's enjoy!

-o-

**Chapter Three**

A short journey took Harrison up from the Ministry to a small street. He ventured out slowly and then jumped back. There were sounds.

Many, many sounds that was strange to his ears. There were so many sounds and they were loud. He clamped his hands over his ears and pressed back at a cold stone wall. The buildings were large and tall and he swirled around. The guard was standing silently near the exit to the Ministry, staring at him.

Harrison laughed. He laughed loudly. His eyes roamed wildly over the buildings and he was beginning to spin around staring at it all. He must look like a loony. He felt like a loony to be honest but the laughter wouldn't die down. It just got worse.

Finally he fell down. It was hard and his hands moved away from his ears. He felt the surface he was lying on. The guard stared down at him. Harrison grinned.

"This is tarmac," he said and knocked on it. "This… this is bloody tarmac. And those are walls, and the sounds… oh, the sounds!"

He got up and ran. He cast spells over himself and the guard still following him so they weren't noticed, and then threw himself into the crowds. He danced around people, dragged at their clothing, poking them and staring at their bags, their shoes and then the cars on the roads. He jumped in front of a few of them, escaped narrowly and when he had no time to dart to the side he simply jumped over them.

Finally he came back to the side of the road, trembling almost, and dragged the guard with him further down.

"So many people! Oh, I've missed people. Hearing them, _seeing _them… I want to destroy their happiness, their little bubbles of safety, it would be so fun! They're Muggles, the lot of them. I don't like Muggles. I've never really met Muggles who are completely nice to me."

He leaned back against a wall, calming down. The guard swallowed and said:

"Do you know… this place?"

"If I know this place? Lad, I may be old but I'm far from what you think. Of course I know this place. It's London, bustling, lively London! I really have to dig out those old memories. This is so much fun."

He ran further, dragging the guard with him all the way. Harrison watched the people, tripped them just for the hell of it, then played with cars and busses on the street. In the end he couldn't help causing a small accident between two cars.

Of course he knew of plains containing nothing but grass and the wind. He remembered the old times with dirty towns and few people. He remembered plagues and sickness that haunted villages and people's minds. He loved it. There were no cars or busses, people didn't walk around in trendy clothes and long heels. He remembered times with rough clothing and hard labour.

Not that he had done much of that, unless one counted the times he had to manually drag bodies around. That was hard for him. Rather his back.

So he remembered the old times, but what no one else knew was that he remembered the new times as well.

"I remember the previous minister came to visit me once, to tell me I could never survive in this society." Harrison looked around. "I'd never been told that before. I guess it's a good thing I waited until I came to a time I definitely knew."

"What…?"

He turned around to face the guard.

"You are really hanging on in there. I must applaud you, my good sir. You are a very stubborn thing."

He took the guard's shoulders and then strokes the pale skin.

"I existed a long time ago, that's definitely true. I haunted people's dreams, fuelled their fear. But I wasn't born a long time ago. I was born in this modern time. _This_, my dear, is my original time. I just happened to be thrown back into the past."

There was no helping; he danced around and laughed again. People glanced uneasily around them. They couldn't see him, or even hear him but they still knew something not nice was there. That just made Harrison laugh harder. He was happy. So, _so _happy.

"Here we go," he said once he calmed down. "We better get home. To my home. I need to get ready. And new clothes because these are really just… no. I stink. I want, no, I _need _to wash my hair."

He grabbed the guard and held on tight.

"I have so many things to do. The Nightmare Lord never gives up on terrorizing people when he has the change to do so."

He focused, and Apparated away.

-o-

Less than ten hours since Albus had come to the Ministry to discuss with Fudge what to do about the Inferi, he returned to pure and utter chaos.

James came jogging over, pale and haggard and followed by Sirius and Remus. Sirius zeroed in on Severus who Albus had asked to accompany him.

"Is it Voldemort?" Sirius growled at the pale man. "Is this Voldemort's doing, Snivellus?!"

Severus veered away before the man could grab him and said smoothly:

"I haven't heard anything about this."

Charred bodies were being covered up and spells were cast to try removing the blood covering the floor. The walls and floor were badly damaged and no spells seemed to remove the stains and burn marks. The atrium, once a proud sign of the Ministry, now looked like a battlefield. The smell of fear and death still lingered in the air.

"It's an unusual fire that made this," Remus said, covering his nose.

"How do you mean?" Albus asked.

"It's not Fiendfyre, or Incendio. They're trying to find out which spell was used to best fix it."

"How many dead?" he continued.

"Twenty and counting," James said. "Are you sure it's not Voldemort, Snape?"

"I don't know," Severus replied. "I just know I haven't heard anything about this. But I doubt it though. The Dark Lord is perhaps mad, but not mad enough to make a hasty attack on the Ministry."

"I have to agree with you, Severus," Albus said. "Where is the Minister?"

James went paler. "He… they're working on getting him… down."

He pointed. Albus and Severus looked up.

Cornelius Fudge was barely recognizable. He was hanging like a ragdoll, on display for all who cared to look. Blood had oozed out of numerous wounds, and his face was just a mess. Aurors held his body up to keep pressure from his arms that had been nailed to the wall.

"Dear god," Albus said. "If Voldemort hasn't done this, then who? Who could be this mad?"

"And strong," James said. "There are Aurors who died. It's skilful, those killings. Most of the people in the atrium died in the fire, but on the floors near the Minister's office there are signs of pure slaughter. Professional but bloody."

"Death Eaters?"

"No way. This is too good for them. No torture, just a single spell to kill several people in one hit," James said. "Then a trail of bodies, I think they tried to get the Minister out and got killed along the way."

"What enemy do we have besides Voldemort? Who is powerful enough to attack the Ministry but we've never heard of them before?"

They all stood silent after Albus' words, and watched how the relatively peaceful times they had lived through the last ten to fifteen years slowly drain away.

It was time for war.

Tbc…

* * *

Really short chapter. The reason why I haven't updated earlier is because I've been away for a few days and haven't had access to a computer.

Chapter four: You get to know more about the Nightmare Lord.

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	5. Chapter 4

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Story-time! Well, Harrison's story-time. Not much action but a bit more information about him.

Enjoy!

-o-

**Chapter Four**

While the Ministry tried to recover from the attack, Harrison landed on his feet in front of a large set of gates, the guard holding onto him for dear life.

Harrison looked up at his home, smiling when he saw it was in perfect condition. No one had discovered it then. That was good. He had deliberately set his place up in a location where few would think to search for it, and look at that. He had his manor, intact.

Well, he could sort of call it a castle with its size, and it had towers. Several towers. Harrison did like his towers, and had spent a lot of time in the far past to make a home perfect for what he wanted and needed.

He opened the gates and started walking up to the manor. To be honest he didn't know how the inside looked like. He hadn't thought of telling anyone to keep it tidy and neat if he happened to be captured because he hadn't expected to be captured.

There was only one way to find out. The set of double doors creaked opened as he closed in, and he entered almost dragging the guard behind him. Harrison stepped into complete darkness, only a bit of the hall illuminated thanks to the light coming from behind him. Still he could see the dust lay thick in the air. Harrison moved his arms.

Heavy curtains that kept the light of the day out were swept away from all the windows and said windows sprang open. With a snap of his fingers fires throughout the manor sprang up in the hearths and soon it was starting to feel much livelier.

Had he had house-elves they probably would have kept it clean for him but Harrison had never owned any. Why should he have house-elves when he could just take half-dead people and make them his servants? Perhaps they couldn't do all the things house-elves could but then again, house-elves weren't capable of all the things wizards and witches could do with magic.

Time to call on his servants. Another snap of his fingers and Harrison grinned as they came, silently crossing the floor to come closer. He was happy to see them. They didn't stagger, or moan, or held their arms out like in some bad zombie movies he had seen from the Muggle world. Movies he had seen in this time, in what felt like ages ago. Maybe he should refresh his memory, if only to get a good laugh about it.

Harrison knew people would never believe if he said this was truly his own time. Those few who knew about him assumed he came from a long time ago, a beast formed in a more uncivilized age. They couldn't be more wrong. He had been born as a normal child, by loving parents. It was what happened later in his life that made him into what he was today.

He gazed around at the people gathered around him.

"Clean this place up," he ordered. "Everything, from top to bottom, alright?"

Several of them bowed and moved away.

"You," he told one, "prepare a bath and then get me some clothes. Inspect the ones here in the manor, I don't want anything rotten, mouldy or rags. I'm not _that _crazy. I don't believe my measurements have changed so if there's nothing here, get me a standard black robe until I can go properly and shop."

That man bowed as well and walked upstairs.

One woman, the head of the servants, stepped forward. Harrison remembered her when she was alive. She was a feisty, headstrong young lady, and he had enjoyed breaking her down. She no longer remembered that time, he usually erased those memories to ease their pain, and as a result she was stubbornly loyal to him and appeared to be that still after all these years with him locked away.

"The man?" she asked.

"Oh, he will soon be added to your staff, Elise," he told her. Then he turned to the guard. "I forgot to ask. What's your name?"

"Christian…"

"Well then, Christian, I'll take care of you in just a moment. You'll feel much better in no time, I promise you that. Elise, I need you to go and gather information about the whereabouts of a man named Voldemort. He's a Dark Lord and might be hard to find."

"Age?"

"I never really thought about it, but late sixties perhaps? I don't know what he looks like now," Harrison added. "Things appeared to be different this time around."

"Different?" Elise asked.

"Yes, different. Things aren't playing out as I remember them."

"They're not? Why?"

Harrison shrugged. "I have no idea. Now, I need to go and sort out Christian before the poor lad drops, and you need to get on and find out where Voldemort might be hiding."

"Of course, master."

He liked that about Elise. Harrison had never asked her to address him with any sort of respect. She had just started one day and never stopped. Others followed her lead and he had to admit being called "master" had a certain ring to it.

As Elise left the manor Harrison marched off with Christian the guard, already thinking what he could do to improve the guard, and then how lovely that bath would be.

-o-

Seeing the bath full with steaming water, Harrison didn't hesitate to pull off the rags that once had been robes, and slide into the tub. He relaxed, leaning his head against the edge of the tub and just enjoying the feeling. It was hot, it was wet and most importantly, he wasn't going to be stinking much longer.

Sinking down just a bit more Harrison couldn't believe his luck that led to his successful escape earlier that day. In the beginning of his captivity he hadn't done much to try and escape to be honest. He was often left completely alone to the brink he sometimes screamed just to check he still had his hearing.

He did forget some of the years, just letting time pass by, freaking people out by not aging, not dying, or even appearing to be that dangerous. A few joy kills and they learned just how dangerous he was. Harrison was partly to blame for that long imprisonment. He could have controlled himself better and not kill people on a whim. Control had tightened, and he had been left in the dark to "punish" him for his actions. He didn't regret them at all. They were called joy kills for a damn reason.

But still, having Fudge coming down to "interrogate" him and at the same time bring a nervous guard near him… one who had no idea he had to protect himself not only physically but also mentally against the Nightmare Lord. The same guard, no, Christian now, was resting in one of the rooms but would soon rise to be part of Harrison's personal army. Harrison assumed most of the man's personality was intact. He would only know when Christian properly woke up and they could talk.

Outside his personal army he had an army of Inferi too, or at least he thought he did. Before he was captured he had put them to rest in some bogs and lakes, and he assumed they were still there, quietly sleeping until he called for them. If they by chance had been destroyed over the years Harrison could still work with that. All he had to do was to demolish some towns and kill some people, and from them create a new army.

"Voldemort," he said out loud. "_Voldemort_. Once a mortal enemy and now… hell, I don't know. Ally? Hah! Shows how much people know. I wonder… oh, I do wonder…"

He snapped his fingers. Normally Elise would show up but since she was out someone else did.

"Ah, Lucian," Harrison said. "Hi, my dear. I'd like to know if there's someone here in the United Kingdom with the name of Harry Potter."

He probably could have done it himself but his magic was still adjusting to free life and the attack on the Ministry had put it in a bit of unbalance. He wouldn't want to upset it, since it was the most precious thing he had resting in his body.

So instead Lucian, a pale shadow in both appearance and behaviour, wordlessly took out his wand and cast a spell. The dark magic swirled briefly in the air and made Harrison shudder in delight. He reared the leftovers in and wrapped it around him like a blanket. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. His magic relished in it, took it inside and Harrison smiled.

"Yes," Lucian spoke after a few minutes. "It says here he's around fifteen years old, lives with his parents in a village called Godric's Hollow and attends Hogwarts. What is Hogwarts?"

"It's a school. Thank you, Lucian, that's all for now. Dismissed."

Harrison was left alone with his thoughts and it didn't take long before he was frowning.

"Why the hell is James Potter alive?" he muttered. "What did I change? Did I change something? No, I can't have. How on earth would I know _what _to change?"

He stared up at the roof.

"This is just not making sense… forget it, I can't do this, I need to talk it out with someone."

He submerged himself in the water, sat up and then began to vigorously scrub himself clean.

-o-

Since Elise was still gone and the others were busy cleaning the manor Harrison sat down in the living room with Lucian.

Lucian used to be one of those who had hunted Harrison before he was captured by the Nightmare Lord in person. Harrison hadn't taken too long to destroy the man's mind and replace it with a docile version. Lucian still had much of his own personality left, one of the first successes actually, only he wasn't hell-bent on hunting Harrison down.

Harrison guided Lucian to the couch and started tracing the tattoos he had placed on Lucian's skin to assure himself of the ownership. Perhaps that was morally wrong, marking a person like that but Harrison had been deprived of many things as a child and tended to be a bit protective over things he actually did own.

Yes, he did consider Lucian as his own property. His living, breathing or rather sort of breathing, property that no one was allowed to take away from him. Lucian didn't protest. Harrison hadn't made him into a person that would protest against something like that.

"Do you know who I am?" Harrison asked.

"Of course I do. You're my master, the Nightmare Lord."

"That's correct. Do you know my name then?"

"Master has no name."

"I do. Well, I did have a name. I threw it away a long time ago but now I took one again. It's sort of like my old name."

"What name would that be then?"

"My new or old one?"

"Both names, master."

The curiosity was Lucian's own. Harrison hadn't taken that from him. It was one of the traits that Harrison had liked in him from the start, combined with the fact Lucian could be rather blunt and straightforward.

"My name now is Harrison," he said and dragged a finger down Lucian's cheek. "The other one… was Harry James Potter."

Lucian frowned.

"But I searched that name. He's a mere boy, and still exists."

"Yes, I know, isn't it marvellous? I don't know whether to love or hate this universe that twisted things around and changed how Harry Potter's past used to be. I feel almost interested to see what kind of life this Harry has lived."

"Has he not lived how you lived, master?"

"Not a chance. When I was his age, I didn't have parents. James and Lily Potter died when I was a child. But here James is alive. I can only assume Lily is alive as well, so Harry didn't live the way I did."

"Master never said how he lived."

Harrison smiled a bit and took Lucian's head in his hands.

"You know, your hair used to be really dark. I changed it."

"I know."

"I think it was sort of done unconsciously, because of your name. Lucian. It sounds almost like Lucius."

"Was this Lucius important to you?"

"God, no! When I was a child he was my enemy. It was only when I grew older I realized how much of an ally he could have been. I guess also I missed seeing familiar faces when I went back in time. However I managed that."

Harrison let go of Lucian and curled up in a ball next to him.

"Master regrets it then?"

"… No, master _does not_. I'm just thinking. When I was fifteen I wasn't like this. I was just terrified of everything. All I could do was to put on a brave face and pretend I wasn't scared."

"Master doesn't fear anything."

"Oh, master fears a lot of things," Harrison told him. "I'm just very good at hiding it. I never minded the darkness in my cell all those years but the silence made me weary. But when I was fifteen… I feared so many things. I feared the silence at night. The darkness. The loneliness and pain and people who caused me pain. I had an enemy much greater than me who wished me dead. When I was fifteen I also started to realize my friends wanted me dead too. I was too powerful for them, too much of a threat in the future."

Harrison jumped up and paced around the room. It was a nice, big room and he liked it. In fact, he liked all rooms in his manor. They were big, they were _his _and they were filled with things he liked to look at and to read and touch and poke.

For now he picked up a jar with a heart in it. Alright, so some rooms were filled with slightly disturbing things but Harrison was a strange person. Besides, it was his manor. He could fill it with corpses and blood and no one had the right to say anything about it.

"Voldemort was my enemy."

Lucian turned his head, silent but eyes begging for Harrison to continue.

"This story of mine isn't a fairy tale. It's just messy, and I'm not very good at telling things. You still want to hear it?"

Lucian nodded, so Harrison put the jar back and came back to the couch.

"You know I hate Muggles."

"Yes, master. Your killing of Muggles was one of the reasons why people tried to capture you."

"I was a bit reckless back in those days. My old potions professor wouldn't have been surprised; I have always been reckless in one way or the other. Perhaps if I had had a more favourable Muggles to grow up with certain things wouldn't have turned out like they did. You see, I grew up with Muggles who absolutely loathed magic. They weren't as foolish as to actually try and physically strike me, put a bruise or cut on my skin but their words hurt more than anything else. I believed it myself in the end."

"Believed what?"

"That I was worthless," Harrison said. "I was just a freak to them. By the time I was ready to accept that truth about myself the magical world was revealed to me. I was a wizard. I had been all along. It was the first time I remember feeling truly happy. I wasn't a freak, there were others like me. But of course that feeling didn't last long."

"Why not?"

"I was the hero of the magical world, _the _Harry Potter, remembered for something I had no idea I had done. Hah, Harry Potter, the one who defeated the Dark Lord."

"You defeated a Dark Lord as a child?"

"Hardly. Have you ever heard of a one-year old kill a grown, experienced wizard? I don't know what really happened, just that I survived when others didn't. But they all thought I had some superior power that would save them from evil. I was just a child! I didn't even know that magic existed until I was eleven years old!"

"Hearing you say this… it's to strange. You are so strong now…" Lucian reached out and touched Harrison's cheek. "Why do you call yourself weak?"

"Because back then I was weak. Back then which is just a few years ago. Feels like longer. Well, it is longer for me. Anyway. School was fun if one looked past people staring and whispering at me. It took me years to realize that people on my side not only worshipped me but outright feared me too. I mean, I survived a mean Dark Lord and was supposed to have the power to defeat him again!"

"What happened?"

"I did defeat him again. I mean, with people pressuring me left and right I wasn't left with much of a choice," Harrison stated. "The funny thing is what happened after that, when I defeated their enemy."

"What happened?"

"Have you ever heard of a prison called Azkaban?"

"Vaguely. They didn't put master in there so it didn't matter to me."

"It's a rather good prison. They had powerful guards. Sort of. In that prison, they put me in there. _Me_, their saviour. A simple trial where nothing was proved. I had no chance to try defending myself. They shipped me off to Azkaban and left me there. Can you imagine that? I saved the world, and ended up in a prison!"

Harrison huffed and took Lucian's hand that had now begun to hypnotically stroke his cheek, up and down. He held it softly in his hand, the skin warm underneath his fingertips.

"It's such a cliché but it was in there I truly began to hate. Did you know that hate could be such a wonderful feeling, Lucian? It's much easier to hate than to love. I gave up loving things."

"But you love us?"

"Of course I do!" Harrison grinned and rubbed his nose against Lucian's. Silly gesture but he was feeling a bit silly today. "I love so many things now but I was seventeen when they threw me into that prison. There wasn't much I had loved before that and I lost it all. I believe I would die in there. Rot away without anyone caring. They had Dementors are guards."

"But the Dementors are… they are master's…"

"Not when I was young," Harrison said. "First time I met them, they took my joy away. I was thirteen. But when I was in there, with them all day, and more bitter than before, they _knew_. Somehow, they fucking knew. I don't know how yet, I don't care, but the Dementors treated me well. I learned their language, and found out what they called me. I was their maker."

That had been a bit of a shocker to hear. Harrison still remembered that despite his age. The rage at first, when he fully understood that his friends, his magical _family _intended to throw him into Azkaban without hesitating, just because he was powerful. Then the despair came, when he was locked in his cell. That cold, damp place… he had hated it then.

But things began to change. The Dementors didn't bring the cold, or took anything from him. Rather they gave other prisoners' joys and hopes and dreams to him. They shared it with _him _of all people, and called him their maker. When Harrison had been Harry Potter he hadn't understood. It had taken him years to realize what could have happened. That somehow he would manage to travel back in time, before the Dementors and helped creating them.

"What happened after that? Master?"

Harrison returned to his living room, to his faithful Lucian and cleared his throat.

"They took care of me even as my hate grew. It's easy to let it grow and fester, turn your heart dark and miserable. I wanted revenge. But I was happy at the same time. I had found something that I could use. The idea that I had created Dementors somehow… it was appealing. When I was younger I feared them. They were cold monsters in my naïve, young eyes. How wrong I was."

"Did you get out of the prison?"

"Yes," he said. "A re-trial cleared me from all charges and people began to praise me again. Said their never doubted me. By that time, I had been in Azkaban for almost three years. After three years in there, they expected me to be their hero and puppet again without protesting. Albus Dumbledore was the man who sought my imprisonment, and when I came out he was the one who tried the hardest to make me forget that fact. But I never did. Don't give up on a grudge, Lucian. Don't be soft-hearted."

"Master is soft-hearted."

"Towards those I know I can trust, yes, but never against my enemies."

"He became your enemy?"

"Of course he did! He threw me into a bloody prison. Albus Dumbledore became my enemy alongside all of my friends. They had thrown me aside the moment they had a chance. That's not a very friendly thing to do, remember that."

"I will."

Glancing over at Lucian, Harrison decided that the man was much like a child. He didn't mind that. Talking to adults all the time wasn't much fun. Well, Harrison did most of the talking right now but Lucian had asked for his story.

"I distanced myself from the world. Their world no longer concerned me. I wasn't anyone's hero; I was just a bitter, young man. That's when I was thrown back in time."

"How?" Lucian crept closer to him, slowly and settled against his side.

"I know I'm considered powerful and all that but by no means am I really clever and smart so… I haven't got a clue how that happened. All I know is that I ended up somewhere else and I knew no one and nothing was what it used to be. There was nothing I knew. No houses, no cars or busses, no streets, not even Hogwarts existed!"

"I've lived for a long time, or rather I've existed for a long time but that's because I'm bound to your energy," Lucian said. "How come you're alive?"

"That, my dear, is my secret." Harrison tapped him gently on the nose. "Well then, it's been quite a while since I've spoken this much. And it's the first time I tell anyone this. Not a very good bedtime-story, is it?"

"I liked it."

Harrison smiled at him. Lucian wouldn't lie to him but he had a hard time understanding what was worth remembering about his past. What mattered was what he was going to do in the future.

Elise knocked on the door before entering, holding a few parchments in her hand. Harrison waved her over.

"I've found this Voldemort's whereabouts," she stated. "His wards are nothing compared to yours, master."

"You just like to break into other people's homes," Harrison replied. "Well? Where is he?"

Tbc…

* * *

Most of you guessed right who the Nightmare Lord was!

Chapter five: Now it's time for the Order to dig deep into the past of the Nightmare Lord to fully understand who he was to others. They delve into a time full of darkness where they believe the Nightmare Lord was born.

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	6. Chapter 5

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Thank you for all the reviews and I'm sorry it took longer than expected to get this out! I've had it a few days on the computer, just haven't gotten around checking it one last time and post it. Well, now it's done so time for you to read!

-o-

**Chapter Five**

Albus stood at Cornelius' desk that now was covered with four boxes, no more. Four boxes was all the information that was to be found on the Nightmare Lord.

This had been gathered after Albus contacted one the guards that were not on shift. The headmaster had an idea of who could have done it, but needed confirmation. Having seen what happened at the Ministry and knowing the minister had shown them the prisoner the free guard had taken them down to the Nightmare Lord's prison. Already when they came out of the elevator they knew something was wrong. The smell of blood was in the air. They rushed to the corridor, where the door to the Nightmare Lord's prison was open, the chair empty, and one guard dead.

The rest of the Order and the able Aurors had been informed by Albus of the man's existence, and the attack of the Ministry was most likely done during his escape.

Lily Potter came to a stop next to him. For the moment they were alone in the room.

"Why would they hide such a monster underneath the Ministry?" she whispered, clutching her hands together. She knew some of the people who had died earlier and had insisted on helping, leaving her precious son with the Weasley family at one of the Order's safe houses. They had brought Hermione and her parents from the Muggle world as well, to keep her safe.

They all knew someone who had died a horrible, painful death today. Albus sighed and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I do not know, Lily. Hopefully the information here will tell us why."

"It's not much," she said. "How long has he been prisoner there?"

"I don't know that either. I've only known about him for less than a day, my dear. I was only able to get these files due to the permission from the guard when it became apparent this Nightmare Lord is probably responsible for the attack of the Ministry."

"What a horrible man."

She still opened the boxes and took out some papers. A few looked ready to fall apart in her hands. Her eyes widened.

"Albus… these are dated… they're dated from centuries ago!"

"What?"

"Look. 1628… and here, 1544! They are… how can he be _this _old?"

"Cornelius mentioned some things that made it known he was older than he looked. But I thought it was speculation, or that Cornelius wanted to… I don't know; make the man seem more terrifying."

"How old did he look like?" Lily said. "Was he really old-looking, please tell me he was…"

"No," Albus said. "In fact… he looked younger than James. His eyes were the only thing that told me there might have been some truth to Cornelius' words."

James, Sirius and Remus filed into the room.

"That's all they have on that thing?" James spat out. "How could he have done so much damage? They were trained to fight, all of them damnit!"

"Hence the reason why we will read all of this," Albus said, "and try to understand our enemy. He has had time to create his own history."

"You really believe he's that old?" Sirius said. "I mean, I know what the Minister said but come on… people don't live that long while looking so young!"

"I'm afraid the papers we've seen so far beg to differ," Albus replied.

"The Nightmare Lord," James scoffed. "First Voldemort, and now this bloke!"

"Bloke is the wrong word, dear," Lily said, staring at a parchment.

All four men looked at her.

"What's wrong?" James said at last.

"This is not an official Ministry parchment. It's just a story about the Nightmare Lord."

"And?"

"And, it's dated back before the founding of Hogwarts," she said and looked up at them. "The Nightmare Lord is more than a thousand years old."

-o-

_I am not sure how to begin, for what I have seen go beyond what this world can show. This is no fairy tale. This is no mad ramblings of a crazed man. This is truth. I hope this will survive, so it may be known to those after me what I have faced._

_Wars had been fought by Muggles, but I never held great interest in them. One such fight happened near my home. Weapons and such that were left behind had some value, and they wouldn't need it. So I took it upon myself to go there and collect it. A man in my age must think of what he leaves behind._

_When I came there, someone was already there. I was naturally disappointed, until I noticed he hadn't touched the weapons and jewellery. He was doing strange things with his hands, stranger even for a wizard such as myself, but I paid him no mind._

_It was then it began. The bodies began to move. They dragged themselves up and opened their eyes but their eyes were not alive. They did not walk like men but dragged their feet and bumped into each other, as if drunk. They all moved to the man._

_I have heard of people using magic to do such things, but never imagined seeing one with my own two eyes. If he had known I was there from the very start, he did not show it._

_When such people are around, the best thing one can do is to quietly leave. I tried that but he saw me. The man had bright, bright eyes, almost too bright to be that of a living being. For a moment I wondered _what _he was, not who._

_That is when he smiled at me. What he showed me then, with a single smile, was that there is a devil. He is wearing a robe and raises the dead. I saw evil. I saw a nightmare. _

_No. I saw the lord of the nightmares._

_The nightmare lord._

Lily stopped reading and looked up at the men around her.

"That was… rather unpleasant," Sirius said. "That's the first where the lord or whatever is mentioned?"

"I have no idea, he might be mentioned before this," Lily said. "We need to read everything. James, that includes you too."

"A thousand years old," James said.

"Yes, I said that."

"How does the man even live? He looked younger than us!"

"Evil has its way to preserve itself," Albus said. "Now, let's not waste our time… there may be some information in here that will allow greater understanding of this lord. Perhaps even a weakness."

They began to take out parchments and folders, spread them out and sorted them by the centuries. When that was done, they had a few dating back well before Hogwarts, and even more before the Ministry that developed in the 1600s.

"Still, not much," James said. "There's more material on Voldemort, and he's not even as old as you Albus."

"He's a present enemy. The Nightmare Lord was imprisoned before the Ministry was fully formed, so centuries have passed since anyone was exposed to his evil deeds. They have forgotten him."

"Well, what happened in the atrium was a rather painful reminder of that man."

"Yes, James. Let's hope there's something here that will tell us how to stop that from happening again."

"Where's Snape?" James asked.

"He's gone back to the school," Albus replied. "There was no point in him staying here; the injured was already on their way to St Mungo's. I think he was going to make some potions to send over to them."

"I can see the comment coming," Lily warned, "and don't you dare utter it, James. Severus is a good man. It's time you grew up and stopped harbouring childish resentment."

James clenched his jaws but didn't speak further.

"That applies to you too Sirius," she continued. "You two are a bad influence on Harry and his friends."

"He's a bat," Sirius said.

"An evil one."

"He's not evil," Lily maintained as she picked up a few folders. "So stop it. He's on our side."

James snorted.

"James," she said. "Please. Severus is not an evil man."

"Yeah? Look at his left arm and tell me again."

"He was young and made a mistake!"

"Severus turned back to the right side," Albus said, holding his hands up. "He is not in league with Voldemort, James, you know that. Now please… let's focus on this."

They all began to read and tell what they found.

The earliest source was not the one Lily had read. It was a short note, written years before the story Lily read and didn't say much. It only described the destruction of a village, and the man believed responsible. It fitted the Nightmare Lord's description.

After those two more stories and notes about him began to appear. It didn't take long before he was known for being people's worst nightmare, and the fear of him made them start chasing after him.

There were accounts recording of hunting he had conducted himself. He made a sport out of hunting Muggles, sometimes killing them, sometimes just scarring them for life. He soon started to terrorize them, and magical people who spoke in favour of Muggles soon faced his wrath as well.

"I think he invented Muggle hunting," James said. "Albus, are you sure Voldemort doesn't know about him? At least about this, because it feels like I'm reading about the Death Eaters."

"I'm not certain how many knew of his existence outside of the minister and his trusted people," Albus replied, "but this nightmare lord certainly has made an impression, whether he intended it or not."

Records told further how people began to put a price on his head so that he was at least killed. Countless people set out for the task, but few ever returned to tell the tale. Most of them weren't really coherent by the time they returned to society, and Albus and the others shuddered to think what the Nightmare Lord had done to them.

"Holy shit," Sirius said after a while. They looked up at him. "This is unbelievable. This guy is worse than Voldemort. Hell, he's worse than Grindelwald!"

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"It says here a village announced there would be a reward if the Nightmare Lord was brought to justice, and his head was brought to the village. You've read up to us, Remus, about people putting a price on his head but a whole village had gone out with this. A few days later the Nightmare Lord came to the village in person, killed all but one who then could tell the tale to others, and burnt the village to the ground."

"A whole village? How many people?" James wanted to know.

"Almost a thousand people lived there," Sirius said. "He killed a _thousand _people, how can one even manage that?"

"He had no aid?" Albus said gravely.

"Let me see here… wait, here's something more… it's what the survivor told someone… alright, this is what he said: _There was something else too. The lord wore a cloak which he removed and spread out. It was black but there was something different about it. When he put it on the ground, in front of us all, there was depth. People began to charge, but he did something and… beings came from the dark folds of that cloak, as if a portal had opened. These beings wore black garbs and had no eyes, only gaping mouths. They took people's souls._"

"Dementors," Albus breathed. "He took their souls with the aid of Dementors."

"Didn't the minister say he was the creator of Dementors?" James said.

"Yes. He made those foul creatures. Was there anything else, Sirius?"

"Let me see." He scanned the parchment. "I don't know if you want to hear it."

"We'll have to," Lily said. "So not to underestimate the man."

Sirius launched into it:

"_He used neither wand nor staff. His magic was dark, oppressing. I nearly choked when I felt it. I had never experienced such evil. The way he killed those I loved was not gentle, nor kind. As I pleaded for the life of my child, her life for mine, he seemed to consider it. What he did was only prolonging my suffering, for he seemed to have no remorse tearing her apart in front of me. When I asked why he was doing this, his answer was only this: 'This is simply what people like me do when we are bored.'_"

"That's horrible," Lily said. "Why didn't they just kill him?"

"He said they couldn't," James answered. "This lord, he told us that. They couldn't kill him so they locked him up. I can't believe that they actually built the Ministry on top of his prison."

"I can't believe he escaped so easily," Sirius said. "I mean, he was locked up for hundreds of years!"

"One of the guards is missing," Albus said. "I've seen in a few of these papers that the Nightmare Lord seems to have a knack for mind control."

"So while we were talking to him, he took control of one of the guards?" Sirius said. "And we didn't notice a thing?"

"It would seem that way."

"That is just really creepy," he added. "I mean… I'm not saying you do notice when someone mind-controls someone else, it's just that he used no spell, made no eye-contact as far as I remember… I mean, he could've controlled anyone of us!"

"He could have, but he wouldn't," Albus said. "Because we couldn't bring him to the surface. His aim was a guard all along. I wonder how long he had been planning his escape…"

"But he's just one man," James said. "One single man. There must be something he can't do. He must have some sort of weakness…"

"Everyone has a weakness," Albus reassured. "However, these papers don't seem to give us an answer to that just yet. We just have to figure it out ourselves."

"Do you really think he has any weaknesses?" Lily said, holding several parchments. "He's a monster. This is a list."

"A list of what?"

"A list of Muggle villages that he has been claimed to have destroyed," she said. "Albus, he didn't just do that. You heard some of the reports we read up. He hunted Muggles for _sport_. He terrorized them, and killed them as if they were animals… how can this much cruelty be contained within one single person? Is he even a person anymore?"

"But he was captured," Sirius stressed. "He was actually caught."

"They tried to kill him," Remus said. "Not catch him. He just shook the spells off as if they were water, and put up little resistance when they did capture him instead. This is one of the official documents retelling his imprisonment."

"He didn't resist?"

"Maybe he was bored and wanted to see what they actually would do if they did catch him," Remus tried with. "The chain he was wrapped up in wasn't able to fully lock away his magic, but he sat there for years before showing that."

"It still doesn't make sense," Albus said. "He let himself get caught and imprisoned for so many years, when it took so little to set him free. Why?"

"In some of the papers it's stated he was left alone for long periods of times," James said. "Many of the guards never even opened the door. When there's no one to reach out to possess, there's little he could do in the dark. The chain apparently held good enough so he needed outside help to get it off him."

"By questioning him it was made possible for him to escape," Lily whispered.

"We didn't know it would turn out this way," Albus said. "Has anyone of you found trial papers or the like? He must have had a trial."

"I think I saw something like that," James said and started shifting through the papers. "The old English is a bit hard to understand but that paper was written in a more modern style."

"I would imagine an early form of our modern English, considering the time-period he was captured."

"Aha, here!" James handed Albus a few parchments.

There was a heavy silence as Albus read through them.

"He made no moves to prove himself innocent of the crimes the people accused him of," the headmaster began. "It would seem, as it's written down as a side-note, he was rather enjoying it."

"Enjoying what? The attention?"

"Being the evil one in the room," Albus corrected Lily's enraged remark. "He was considered far too dangerous to be placed in Azkaban, and the prison we visited had been built some years earlier for extra dangerous criminals. They were moved though to Azkaban and the Nightmare Lord was placed there."

"All because they couldn't kill him," Lily said. "Did they even try?"

"Lily dear, it says here he took an Avada Kedavra to the chest, and _laughed_. I'm rather sure they knew they couldn't kill him."

"So they just decided to lock him up forever?" Remus asked.

"Seems that way," Albus replied, putting the parchments down. "Obviously it didn't work out in the end."

"Obviously," James echoed. "So… what the hell are we supposed to do now?"

There was no answer.

Tbc…

* * *

A bit more about the Nightmare Lord has been revealed!

Chapter six: Harrison meets Voldemort. Will there be a tentative alliance between the two, or will the Order be attacked from two separate enemies?

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


	7. Chapter 6

**The Nightmare Man**

**Summary**: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

**Pairing/s**: None.

**Warnings**: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Wow, it's been longer than I expected. I've been doing some other things instead, but here's a new chapter! Enjoy!

-o-

**Chapter Six**

Harrison stepped through Voldemort's wards, and the man's manor was revealed. Harrison stopped and blinked a few times. He looked behind him where Elise and Lucian had stopped after entering after him.

"Well, I must say they were very well made," he mused. "I wouldn't have noticed a bloody manor outside them."

"Still, it was easy to take down," Elise said.

"That's because you are you."

"What's that supposed to mean, master?"

"It means you see some wards, and you just have to break in," Harrison stated. "You bad, _bad _girl."

Elise shrugged. Lucian shook his head at them both. Harrison smiled and started to move again. He had no weapons with him, only a silky, black robe that had been waiting for him after his bath. As he had feared, most of his clothes had been destroyed when no one attended to them. A few was apparently salvageable, but he still had to go shopping after this.

As for carrying neither weapon nor a wand, Harrison had no need for either of them. He had no great love for his old wand, and even if he had a second wand he felt it unnecessary to use it since he could fight well without wands. Very well in fact.

Stepping up to the doors of the manor, Harrison stopped once more. Beyond the doors, if the man was home, awaited a Dark Lord. Well, Harrison could be considered a Dark Lord too. Perhaps one of the first ones. But it was a Dark Lord he hadn't had a very good relationship with. Voldemort had in Harrison's childhood tried to kill him. Something had obviously changed with this time, with James being alive, so it was highly possibly this Voldemort never disappeared on that Halloween night.

He turned to Elise and Lucian again.

"Should I knock?" he said. "I've heard it's polite."

"Since when are you polite, master?" Lucian asked.

"Oh… well… you do have a point there."

Harrison pushed the doors open instead, thinking that he would find out what the man's past was, and how much things had changed. It was actually quite fun, not knowing the future. Had he known the answers beforehand, it would be quite boring wouldn't it?

-o-

Voldemort was alone when he felt the magical signature that let him know someone was in his home. Someone who had passed the wards without the Dark Lord noticing it, and was now _in his bloody home_. Voldemort moved silently and swiftly down to the front hall, wand ready.

He wasn't exactly prepared for what awaited him. A whole group was what he had expected, people ready to kill him, people already spreading out to find him.

But no, it wasn't so. All that was in his front hall was three people, two men and one woman. The man furthest into the hall seemed like a leader over the other two, and when spotting Voldemort, he smiled. In a not particularly friendly way. More like a predator. A very hungry predator. Voldemort raised his wand.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Hello there."

"Who. Are. You?"

"Alright, alright, I'm getting to it. I was just raised properly and wanted to apologize for just barging inside."

"Master, you never were raised properly," the woman said.

"Yeah," the other man agreed. "Your manners are just horrible at times."

"Elise, Lucian, shut up," the man said.

"Who are you?" Voldemort interrupted. He didn't like being ignored, and now he was being ignored in his own home, by intruders no less!

"You really are an impatient man, aren't you?"

The smile on the man's face was too much and Voldemort fired off an Avada Kedavra at him. The green spell hit its target without the woman and man called Elise and Lucian moving. The spell vanished, sucked into darkness and the man was still standing. Voldemort stared at him.

"Sorry. Killing spells doesn't work very well on me. Forgive me truly for just barging in, it's just Elise here, she loves wards. She sees one, she has to break it down. Also I told her to find you."

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded.

"You know who I am. You've made Inferi so that means you've read my book."

Voldemort knew that. He had found the book as a young man and marvelled at what was written. He had clung to every word, worshipping the writer without knowing a face or a true name. He only knew the man's title…

"The Nightmare Lord," Voldemort breathed out. "A legend of old and lost times."

"Oh, I've become a legend? Cornelius didn't tell me that, but I suppose that's true. I've been gone for some time."

"You can't be him. He lived a long time ago."

"I still live. I'm old I suppose."

"How can you be alive?"

"Oh, that's my secret to keep," the Nightmare Lord said, grinning widely.

"If you're truly the lord, why did you disappear?"

"I was in prison for a wee bit."

"A few hundred years, master," Elise corrected.

"Elise, shush with you. I hadn't planned on sitting there for very long, I just lost track of time."

"Liar. You never lose track of time, master."

"Alright, alright, so I made a few mistakes," he said. "We all do, don't we? People mocked me for having been caught and I kind of… lost it? I don't like mocking people. I like to mock people, but they don't get to mock me."

"So in short, master," Lucian said, "you killed people that were rude and thus creating such fear in other people that they didn't enter your cell for a very long time?"

"… More or less."

"Master is an idiot."

"Lucian!" the Nightmare Lord said. "Watch your language! I am not an _idiot_."

"So you are really him," Voldemort said, joining the conversation once more. "The Nightmare Lord?"

"Yes, that's me, in the flesh, rather handsome if I may say so. Would you mind putting your wand down? I'd hate to disarm a fellow evil lord, you know, but it's kind of distracting me."

Voldemort considered it for a while and then lowered it. He didn't put it away though.

"That's better I suppose. May I come in?"

"You already are inside."

"I mean further inside. I'd like to talk more, but I ain't standing for the whole conversation."

Voldemort considered this too before stepping back and motioning with his arm.

"Come to the living room then."

"Oh, thank you."

Elise and Lucian followed him. Voldemort seated himself near a wall while the Nightmare Lord merely sat down on the closest available surface. It was the couch facing the rest of the room, leaving his back unprotected. Well, not entirely. The two, servants if Voldemort had to fancy a guess, stood behind him. Lucian didn't look like much of a fighter but Voldemort had long since stopped comparing people's strength to their looks. Dumbledore looked weak, but his magic was still very strong.

"So you learnt the art of making Inferi from reading my book," the lord said.

"Yes. I had heard of it before that, from various sources, but never the method."

"Let me guess; because it was a foul, evil thing to do?"

"More or less."

"That just made you want to do it even more?" the lord guessed.

"Merlin, yes. I was ecstatic when I found the book."

"Oh, it makes me so glad to hear that there's someone like me in this godforsaken, rotten world! You are like me, right? Death to Muggles and all that?"

Voldemort nodded numbly. It was sinking in now. It was truly sinking in. A very ancient man sat before him, the very notion of fear and knowledge of evil things, and he was talking to Voldemort like it was nothing. For the first time in his life, Voldemort was humbled. He was seen as important enough to the Nightmare Lord that the lord visited him for real.

"Jolly good then," the lord said, clapping his hands. "By the way, you may call me Harrison. I do like the sound of being called master but that's reserved for those I am actually the master over. Like Elise and Lucian here."

"You made them?"

"Sort of. I captured them, and remade them into something more in my taste," Harrison said. "They were both hunters once upon a time. I was their target but I put an end to those thoughts."

"Very efficiently," Lucian added. "Now when I think about it, I must have been very foolish indeed to have gone after you."

"You've made companions out of your enemies?" Voldemort asked.

"Wouldn't you?" Harrison said. "If they're useful, and fun to have around. Now, my book… do you happen to have it somewhere near?"

"Yes. There was quite a lot in it that I didn't know how to use, or make…"

"Oh, I was probably rambling at that point. Rambling whilst writing… that's rather well done, isn't it?"

"It's in the library. This way."

Voldemort had a feeling now about the attack on the Ministry. None of his Death Eaters could have done it even as a group. It was well-protected and even he would have troubles getting inside.

"You're the one who attack the Ministry, right?" he asked as he stepped into the library.

"I didn't really attack," Harrison replied. "I was just getting out."

"How do you mean? You were trapped inside the Ministry?"

"No, underneath it. They built the Ministry on top of my prison. Bet they regret that decision now, or perhaps curse the people who did it even though it happened centuries ago."

Voldemort searched the bookshelves and soon found the book which he then handed over to Harrison.

"I restored it shortly after I found it," Voldemort admitted. "It was in a rather fragile state."

"Oh, thank you. I must have left it lying around somewhere. I didn't think people would be interested in making corpses walk around. Back in the old days, they were _so boring_."

"You liked it," Elise said.

"I liked the look on people's faces when they realize they're fighting their dead aunt or something."

"… Have you done that a lot?" Voldemort asked. "It sounds like you've done that a lot."

"Oh yes I have," Harrison said and sat down in one of the arm chairs in the library. Voldemort followed suit in another one, taking a long look at the man.

Voldemort's own, young features were done with the help of dark magic but he had no idea what Harrison had done to keep looking so young. Or what he had done to live this long for that matter.

"I did it especially when I knew there were family connections but the most fun I had was when I did it to Muggles. They're even funnier about it than wizards and witches. Our kind does understand what's going on, it's forbidden magic or something equally stupid they call it, but the Muggles… _oh_, they have _no _idea what's going on. That tone of horror as they shriek… I just love it."

"The tone bordering on hysterical," Voldemort added, "just below that?"

"Yes, precisely!"

"Music in my ears," he admitted.

"You think so too?" Harrison said. "It's simply marvellous isn't it? Who needs real music when you can listen to sounds like that?"

Voldemort finally relaxed, and they both grinned at each other.

"Dear god," Lucian interjected. "There are two of them."

"Two of what?" Harrison said dangerously low. "And do remember Lucian; I can string you up in a dungeon and conveniently forget you for a while."

"You like me far too much to do such a thing, master."

"Try me, and we'll see. Now, two of _what_?"

"Crazy people," Lucian said with a straight face.

Harrison turned and looked at him for a while.

"Well, you do have a point there. I'm certainly not sane. How about you, Voldemort?"

"I've been told numerous times that I'm mad," Voldemort confessed. "People like to shout it at me."

"You too? They just loved to do that to me, isn't that just rude?" Harrison said. "I see manners in people haven't gotten much better since my glory days."

"Master, you like to kill people. It's rather unlikely that people will ever show you any manner or courtesy every."

"Lucian dear, I know I made you so you can say whatever you want but that doesn't mean that you _should_," Harrison warned.

Elise looked away but Voldemort could see she was smiling, just a bit.

"How many of them do you have?" he asked, gesturing at the two.

"Oh, not too many. I'm a bit picky I'm afraid. Most people didn't hold my standards once I caught them, and honestly? Some of them died too fast."

"You're horrible, master," Lucian informed.

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that. It wasn't accidental that I became horrible, that was the point itself." Harrison looked at Voldemort. "Was that your point too, or do you have a more noble cause than me?"

"The Light side, in particular a man named Albus Dumbledore, seems convinced that the Muggle world should know about us. I don't wish that, nor am I particularly fond of the Light side pushing the dark purebloods aside. Protesting against such things apparently makes one evil."

"Oh, please, like that's new," Harrison said. "You wouldn't be the first person to be painted evil for wanting such a thing. In my personal opinion the Muggles can go on living, but they should _never _know about us. They have this _need _to destroy things they don't understand, and I speak from experience. They want to eradicate it, beat it out. Now don't get me wrong, we magical people aren't so innocent either but at least we think before we act. They don't."

Voldemort relaxed further the longer they sat down. Before him was the very man whose written words he had admired for so many years.

"You know, you look like a child who just met his hero," Harrison stated after a while, smiling.

The Dark Lord felt a flare of irritation rise up and then die out. The Nightmare Lord wasn't too far off that mark if he was honest. Voldemort truly admired Harrison, ever since he found that book. He had heard it wasn't always as good meeting those you respected and admired but his opinions on Harrison hadn't changed. Maybe he was different than what Voldemort thought. Maybe he was a bit stranger and wilder than he imagined, but then again, this was the man who had created Inferi for fun.

"I still can't get over how you have lived this long."

"And that's still my secret to keep," Harrison replied. "Am I doing well? I haven't gone and started looking old, have I?"

"No. Not at all."

"Good. I'm starting to wonder if evil personality automatically means you become vain because as a child I couldn't care less how I looked… well, the small portion of my childhood when I wasn't evil."

Harrison tapped his chin.

"Now then," he said after a while. "Since I haven't been around this world for a while, why don't we chat over a cup of tea and you can tell me how fucked up this world has become."

-o-

The next day Harrison stepped into Diagon Alley for the first time in centuries. He had seen the old one and the new one but still had to stop for a moment to take it all in. It was bustling with life and while part of him hated every happy face of every Light wizard and witch there, he didn't want to burn the alley down. He liked the place, and his main concern now anyway was shopping.

What had surprised him the most was the person standing next to him. Voldemort was under a complex glamour, as he couldn't really be seen in public but it was shocking that the man had agreed to come with Harrison when they only met yesterday.

Then again, he was sure that the Dark Lord of this century had never met someone who agreed with his ideas so greatly without being manipulated in some way. Harrison had never been manipulated into believing the Dark was great, and the Light was a threat. Rather he had been taught that the Dark was evil and the Light was what everyone should strive for.

For all that was worth. He had learnt that things aren't always what they seem, and he had learnt it well. He would never trust a Light person until he had rooted through that person's head to make sure he or she meant no harm.

For now he didn't worry too much about it. His goal for the day was not Light people hunting, but clothes.

"I could be deciding for a long time," he warned Voldemort as they weaved through the crowds. "I'm very picky about my clothes."

"I don't mind, I can always go to the bookshop if it takes too long." Voldemort was silent for a moment. "I didn't want to mention this earlier, but you are aware that you're barefoot, right?"

"Of course I'm aware of that," Harrison replied. "I'm afraid I gotten rather fond of not having shoes. They are so constricting. Why should others care what I may have or may not have on my feet?"

"That's what people do nowadays. They meddle in other's businesses simply because they can."

"Oh, don't people have better things to do with their time. I can think of manybetter things to do than being a nuisance. Now, where should I go?"

Voldemort director them to a robe shop near Knockturn Alley and in there Harrison was promptly whisked away for measurements. He had thinned down a bit he noted as the girl working around him jotted down his size on a parchment. When the measuring tape edged closer to his head on its own, Harrison swatted it away with his hand.

"I do not require a hat, you," he told it sternly, "so keep away."

The girl giggled, sweeping out fabrics and pinning out a new robe on him after he chose a specific cut of the fabric. Harrison liked style, and he wasn't going to hold it back now.

Once that boring stuff was finished, and the numbers were set as correct, Harrison got down to the fun stuff. There were so many different styles of clothing, but he made a few custom requests that apparently delighted the shop owner to no end. He picked out fabrics and colours, sticking with mostly dark ones as blood was better hidden on them, and choosing a few popular robe styles. Voldemort in the meantime stood at the side and looked fairly amused at it all. Harrison never thought in his early life that such a look would fit him, but it did. Perhaps Voldemort had changed too.

During their talk the previous day Harrison found out a lot what was going on, and what had happened. Harry Potter was still destined to kill the Dark Lord but it appeared that while Voldemort had attacked and tried to kill him as a boy, it hadn't been a success. Voldemort had gone into hiding after that to regroup and plan. The war wasn't over by a long shot, it was brewing just underneath the surface, and Harrison believed with him being here it would surely start once more.

Perhaps Voldemort thought Harrison would heed his commands. There was still a lot of arrogance in the man, but if he had any plans that Harrison would follow his words he was wrong. Voldemort was a mere child in his eyes, and while he was cruel, he was nowhere as cruel as Harrison. Then again, he had a goal. Harrison didn't have one, outside being the worst being the Light could ever think of.

It took him almost an hour to choose everything, and he could leave with a few sets that had already been sewn, and the rest he could collect later. Rather, he'd probably send someone to collect it.

"Were you like that as well, back in the old days?" Voldemort asked.

"What, you don't take your time when getting clothes?" When the Dark Lord shook his head, Harrison grasped at his chest. "You horrible man! I feel it's expected of me to look good when I kill something… or someone. Might distract them from the fact I'm way too happy."

"And here I thought I'd never meet anyone crazier than me. Well, technically Bellatrix is crazier than me."

"Bellatrix?"

Harrison already knew who he was talking about. He had never liked Bellatrix. That was mostly because she killed Sirius, taking away the one of the few people Harrison wanted alive in the end. But now Sirius was probably too light… well, he had been that the first time around but he had been more wary due to his Azkaban visit… he had been more wary to trust Light people. This Sirius probably trusted them too much.

"Yes, she's one of my servants. She enjoys torture."

"Oh?"

"To the point it becomes rather ridiculous I must admit. She doesn't have self-control."

"Sounds like someone who needs a wee bit discipline."

"It doesn't work well with her."

They left Diagon Alley, stepping inside the Leaky Cauldron. They sat down for a late lunch while Harrison thoroughly enjoyed his new robes. They both ordered a simple lunch and sat back to watch the others in the bar. Most people were discussing the attack on the Ministry.

"You could have just escaped the Ministry without alerting anyone," Voldemort said after putting up a privacy bubble around them. "Why didn't you?"

"I do sneak out in the shadows, unseen and unheard, but sometimes a statement needs to be made. This one told the magical world of today that there is something powerful that doesn't care for their politics or their people."

"They don't believe it's me," Voldemort said. "I've never done anything as foolish as attacking the Ministry."

"Are you saying I was a fool?"

"No. Attacking from the outside is difficult. If you're already inside, it becomes easier."

"Aah, I see. Well, no one was expecting me."

"How did you get out anyway? If you've been locked up for centuries, why now?"

"I saw a chance and took it. It was thanks to your Inferi I believe. They are waking up apparently."

"Yes," Voldemort admitted and glanced around. "I thought it was time to remind people of the good, old days."

"Thanks to that, they let their guard down. I guess I should thank you for that. What do you plan to do then?"

"I performed raids before," he began but quieted down as the barman approached with their food. He cancelled the spell, waited until the man was behind the bar again before putting it back up.

"Raids?" Harrison questioned. "On what?"

"Villages. Sometimes it was to steal something, other times to kill… mostly to scare people and make them aware we exist."

"Hmm… sounds interesting. Mind if I tag along on one?"

"I haven't really planned one so far…"

"Then… what kind of place wouldn't they want attacked right now?"

"With the exception of the Ministry, Hogwarts or the nearby village Hogsmeade. But Hogwarts' wards are powerful and old. I can't get through them."

"Hogwarts you say? It's been a long time since I visited that place. It's still a school, right?"

Harrison knew, because he had told Lucian so. But it was easier to pretend to be ignorant.

"Yes. You've been there?"

"A few times." Harrison ate for a bit and then confessed, "I think Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw fancied me a bit."

"You've met two of the founders?!"

"I met all four of them. Nice children. Helga was a sweetheart. She liked plants."

Voldemort was staring at him.

"What?" he asked. "So they fancied me a bit, nothing more."

"No, it's not that… I can't believe you've met all four founders…"

"It's not that big of a deal," Harrison said. "Are they very known today?"

"Well, to a certain degree. Slytherin has taken the brunt of the weight as the evil one."

"Salazar, evil? That lad?" Harrison laughed outright. "Alright, so he had some less nice opinions on Muggles and Muggleborn children, but he was far from evil!"

The look on Voldemort's face made Harrison cave in and tell him a bit more about the four founders. Harrison himself had been in awe when he first met them, despite being older than them by that time. Legends he had heard about as a teenager, and then meeting them when they were but teenagers themselves. Harrison had been in the position to be their mentor.

He mentally snorted. He, a mentor! Well, it had paid off. He got to see Hogwarts. He got to help with Hogwarts…

He got to be _very _familiar with all her wards.

-o-

Harrison stepped into Voldemort's manor once more but this time there was a lot more people inside. Death Eaters to be precise and they were all staring at him as he walked side by side with Voldemort. He was not going to walk behind the man, and had made that clear earlier. Voldemort had only replied with a:

"I don't doubt that a bit. Feel free to punish whoever says you have to kneel before me."

They came to a large room with a single throne raised at the end. Harrison glanced at Voldemort and said:

"Really? A throne?"

"Yes. Don't tell me you didn't have one."

"… Alright, I did have one. But it looked more comfortable than this one."

Voldemort took out his wand and sent off a spell. Harrison watched fascinated as a second throne grew forth out of the stone ground, this one decidedly looking more comfortable. He sat down without even stopping, and didn't care at the collective sound of gasps from the Death Eaters.

"My lord…" one voice began hesitantly from the mass of black robes and masks.

"Yes?" Voldemort asked silkily, caressing his wand as his red eyes found the speaker.

"Who is the man?"

It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and her eyes were fastened on Harrison with a deadly stare. He merely smiled at her and waggled his fingers.

"Someone you ought to respect, _Bellatrix_," Voldemort hissed. "He's the one who attacked the Ministry, single-handedly. He killed several Aurors and did us a great favour. You all do well in respecting him."

Their stares were no longer hesitant or anger; it was awe now. Awe and a healthy dose of fear.

"Tonight we shall do a raid!" Voldemort said, getting their attention. "We will show the Light that we will no longer sit idle in the shadow! Tonight marks the full return of the war, and our fight for justice. Tonight, we will deal with Hogsmeade. Their precious village will know our wrath of being judged unfairly."

Harrison glanced over at Voldemort. He did have his way of speaking, and it was obvious the followers weren't just fools. They were from ordinary, dark families, and they honestly believed in the man. He wondered just what kind of information he had been given when he was a teenager and still went by the name of Harry Potter. He had pictured all the Death Eaters as mental, a version of Bellatrix Lestrange. He had imagined and thought Voldemort to be just an insane man.

He might be a bit insane now, but he certainly had charisma. Harrison saw how everyone held onto his words.

"Move out," Voldemort stated. "Gather outside the village, and await my command. Do not let people sense your magic."

They all bowed. Harrison tapped a finger against his cheek, biting back a smile. Such good little sheep… Voldemort turned to him and said:

"Don't you have your wand?"

"I don't need one," Harrison stated. "To be honest, it would only slow me down."

"Is that so? I look forward to seeing you in action then."

Harrison looked forward to be in action, and stood up with a smile.

He Apparated alongside Voldemort to Hogsmeade, seeing the castle beyond the village. He took a deep breath seeing it. His home as a child, now housing most of his enemies. Albus fucking Dumbledore. It had taken all of Harrison's control to not shout at the man back in his prison. Scream at him for what he had done. Would have done. In this time, it appeared he wasn't going to throw this Harry Potter into Azkaban. This Harry Potter still had his parents, still had _love _in his heart.

Harrison sneered. He'd free the castle of idiots like Dumbledore. She didn't need such monsters within her walls.

"Everyone," Voldemort said. "Show your skills but be careful. Do not get caught. When you see my symbol in the sky, you Apparate away."

They all nodded, faceless beings cloaked in black. Harrison turned his attention to the village.

"May I go first?" he asked.

"Such insolence-!"

"Bella, be quiet," Voldemort said. "Go ahead, _my lord_."

They all gasped hearing the title spill from Voldemort's lips. Harrison raised his hands and filled his body with magic. It soon spilled over and entered the air. He began to glow, and then darken. He didn't need to look back to see them all stare at him.

The ground beneath him began to rumble, and dark roots broke through. He would begin small. The roots were something he had come up with in the beginning, when he was still so young. He had forced magic into tree roots, made them do his bidding, and now could create them from scratch.

One shot through a house, another wrapped around another. As the dark watched, Harrison let the roots go wild.

The first one to pierce a human though had him jerking a bit. That person's life-force, the very essence that made them breathe, flowed into him. Harrison laughed. He couldn't help it. He was filling up with energy, and the roots stayed put, frozen in place. He then gathered that very same life-force into his hands, forming not a spell, but just pure magic. He turned to look at Voldemort.

"Well then…" he said. "Here we go."

Voldemort ordered the attack. Harrison ran towards the village. Alarms sounded. People screamed, fought back. Soon enough he saw the Order come, wands ready. His grin widened, but there was not yet time for them to know that Harrison had met Voldemort. He concealed his face, and kept to the shadows. The thrill of the fight, feeling so many magical signals clashing together, it made him shudder in delight.

But then he stumbled upon a scene he hadn't expected. James Potter in all his glory was glancing around before shooting off a powerful cutting curse.

Right into Severus Snape.

Harrison's eyes widened slightly as blood poured out of the potions master, and he stumbled, falling down on the ground. James walked up to him, wand aimed at him and Harrison narrowed his eyes.

"Don't," he said softly, but it was a scream in James' head. "Look at me."

The man turned emotionlessly. Harrison crawled into his head and thoughts to find out _why_ and the reason made him laugh.

By God, the man was _jealous_! Severus had earned the respect of his son, and his wife, and that would be his doom?! It was too much. Apparently not too much for James. Harrison sent him on his way and continued himself.

The battle moved closer and closer to Hogwarts, leaving Hogsmeade burned and charred. Harrison knew the Death Eaters would be called back soon, and made his way back into the village. Corpses lay strewn across the roads. He stepped over them and grimaced as blood seeped in between his toes. He was all for carnage and chaos, and he did love the sight of blood but betweenhis _toes_? There had to be a limit to everything. He would have to take a long nice bath after all this.

He soon felt a magical signal amongst the corpses. It was very faint, in fact barely there but he followed it curiously and came to a stop. Harrison saw the man move, and the black, beautiful hair. He knelt down in the blood and stroke the head, feeling the whole body beneath him shudder. He gently turned the man over, and froze.

The eyes were the same, black and deep, but the nose remained straight and narrow, and the teeth were clean. The skin was now white instead of sallow, as most of his blood lay around him.

"Hello there, Severus," Harrison whispered. "Do you remember me?"

The dark eyes rolled around, and Harrison was amazed that the potions master was still alive. The cutting curse had been deep, mortal. Yet this man clung onto life with all he had. Blood had run out of his mouth and nose, but he was still breathing.

"I guess you don't," he said. "Then again, why should you? The Severus Snape I knew, he doesn't exist now, does he? Since Harry has respect for you, you can't have been that mean to him. Is it because Lily is alive?"

Harrison felt around. He didn't know if James had come back or not, but Severus had more wounds now, all of them bleeding still. He was stopped when he noticed the black eyes watched him.

"Hello there," he said again. "Tell me something. Do you want to live?"

Severus tried to raise his wand, still in a tight grip in his hand. He wasn't giving up, Harrison had to give him that. But it didn't take much to lower it back onto the ground again.

"Do you want to live?" he repeated.

The eyes clouded over for a moment, the whole face contorted in pain but then there was the faintest of nods. Harrison laughed in delight, clapping his hands when he realized he just caught himself a _potions master_.

"Good. Very good, child. I'll make you all better. A lot better. I do like your eyes, but they'll be just the tiniest bit different once I'm done. Not that anyone will see that until I want them too. Alright then, up we go."

Harrison moved his hands. Severus' wounds stopped bleeding and then levitated into the air. Harrison took a look around but none of the corpses fit his tastes.

"I still have my Inferi," he said to himself. "Or I should have them. I put them to sleep quite a while ago, but that's the thing about Inferi… they don't disappear very easily. If they're gone, I'll just make more, but I don't have time now."

He glanced over at Severus.

"He needs mending, and fixing. Better get on with it."

He saw a skull rise, and a snake moving out of its mouth. He heard people Apparate.

"So that's his signal," Harrison said. "Good that some things don't change."

He grabbed onto Severus and Apparated.

Tbc…

* * *

I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter seven: School returns to normal, and James Potter gets a shock.

Until later,

See ya,

Tiro


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